Whispers
by west-est
Summary: What if Magnussen had known TOO much of Sherlock and John's life?


Magnussen's steps resounded all around the wide dark corridor alongside the sound of the dripping drops wich came from a drilled tube. Perhaps it was perforated in a police raid, pierced by a vacant bullet, he thought smiling. Guns... he loved them because of their destroying capacities. He adored everything that could destroy and annihilate everything. "Why do people create killer-machines but don't want to be killed?", he asked loudly with a sharky-smile on his face.  
In front of him, although ten yards away, there was a slightly rust iron ladder, lightened a bit by a hole in the ceiling which took to the ground floor of the building: Magnussen was in the cellars of a previous prison which had been abandoned for almost ninety years. The prison was bought three years before by a famous libertine who changed the austere building in a centre where everyone could enjoy secret pleasures as assuming drugs, attending rooms rent by prostitutes, playing as boxers in bets or simply as occupying rooms how long they wished. However, he wasn't there for women of for cock-fights but for something by far more interesting. He smirked while going upstairs.  
He then found himself in a hall full of sofas, chairs, tables, paintings, carpets with beaitfull textures and many other things; the place was quite foggy because of the steams, since probably there was a kitchen not much far, and of smoke which came from the fired drugs in some battles whose names he couldn't remember. He was so disgusted he turnt his steps to a staircase and then he went upstairs untill he arrived to the third floor, the last, which was calm and silent. There were several rooms, all closed, and a narrow corridor where he passed stopping only at the end, in front of a window. On his right side there was the twentyforth room he was looking for. "Perfect", he said while taking out of his coat a recorder which he placed on the door, hoping all the sounds that came from the other side were catched by the machine... His smile widened.  
Not wanting to miss a single sound from the room, he leant on the door to earkeep. He held his breath and smothered his laughter as he heard some sighes and groans. "Ssh...", someone said in the room and then Magnussen heard a sqeak and then again other moans.  
Although he knew what was happening there he couldn't restrain himself from seeing exactly the happening. He laid his hand on the handle of the door and then opened it slowly, wide as necessary. He then held his breath again but for the embarassment since there were two men writhing in the bed where the sheets were tangled around the two, barely covering their intimacies. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were having sex. Sherlock was behind Watson and was penetrating the soldier roughly and John had to bite his toungue off so he couldn't scream for the pleasure and for the pain, too.  
"John retrain and control yourself!", whispered Sherlock at John's ear as Watson was stretching, "I know you like it but control yourself."  
"Sherlock...", said John clinging his eyes, "control..."  
Nevertheless, after a while he embraced Sherlock as he could and then pushed violently his buttocks towards Sherlock's button boner. "Yeah, yeah!", he said at each thrust followed by Sherlock kissing him on the neck and saying "Oui, oui!"  
Magnussen had to restrain himself from gutfawing because of the sexy and embarassing scene although he was quite attracted by the two.  
Magnussen remained there untill Sherlock and John came and laid down the bed exhausted, still embraced. Then Magnussen turnt off the recorder and silently went away the door with his sharky face bent.

"SHERLOCK!", shouted John Watson holding a parcel post in his hand. He blushed because he was made anger by what was in the parcel.  
"What?", asked Sherlock using his microscope to see some traces of blood he had found on the handkerchief of a victim of a brutal murder.  
"Look!", he said taking out of the parcel a dvd which he put down near Sherlock, "Watch it and you will find out what I'm talking about, Sherlock", he added.  
Sherlock became curious by the dvd. He glanced at John and then, taken away the dvd, headed to the sitting room where he took John's computer who didn't protest the computer was his. "It seems it is a serious thing since you haven't behave as a nut since you gave me this dvd", said Sherlock swtiching on the computer and then putting in the dvd; he then joined his hands waiting the dvd to begin. John didn't answer back and Sherlock glanced up from the computer, "Yes, it is.", he said.  
"This is no time for trifling", answered back quickly John. As he finished answering the dvd began playing a video with no images but with only a distinct audio. At the begining Sherlock could hear only some confused sounds of whispers, moans and kisses but after two minutes or so he heard his voice mixed with John's: "Control...", "Retrain yourself","Yes!", "Oui, j'aime toi beacoup... j'aimerai toi pour sempre...", "Sherlock, I can't...!" and then, nearly at the end of the audio, the two sighed loudly.  
"Those voices...", began Sherlock frowning a bit upset, "Those voices resemble ours."  
"Because they are ours, Sherlock!", shouted John impatiently.  
Sherlock looked at him straight in the eye and John swallowed calming a bit down. John was about to say something but he was interrupted by Sherlock: Sherlock splited his sides with laughter. "Sorry?!", asked John blushing again, "You have just find out we were recorded secretly and that this audio may finish on Internet and the only thing you do is...", said while contracting his face disgusted, "... laughing!"  
"So... I'm so sorry, John, I didn't want to insult you; you misundertood me", he quitted laughing, "Well, yep, I think we are in trouble. By the way, do you know who sent it?"  
John hesitated for long before answering. "Magnussen, Charles Augustus Magnussen.", he said at the end.  
Sherlock immedietely stood up, eyed-widened and suddenly paler than before. "He is dead.", he said.  
"I know, but if you had paid more attention to the audio you would have noticed what we had said. You talk in French there and the last time we had sex and you were speaking in this language", he said lowing his voice, "we were at Mark's, remember?", seeing as Sherlock was half-closing his eyes, he made himself understood better, "On that evening you took me there because you said there was a robber who was sought-after by the police for blackmails. Nevertheless, you were lying and you pushed me in a room, you flung your arms around me, you took my clothes off and you know... ", he blushed further on.  
"Oh! I remember! You are a really good story-teller, John. By the way, it happened more than six months ago and Magnussen died three weeks ago. He may have told someone to sent this in these days."  
"So what are we going to do?", asked John clearing his throat with folded arms.  
"Nothing", he said looking out of the window.  
"Are you serious, Sherlock?", he said between his teeth.  
"Don't worry, it's all over control", he said going away the room, "Irene Adler had taught me some interesting tips of her job before disappearing..."  
"I don't understand you", he shouted to the kitchen where Sherlock was, "Sherlock!"  
Sherlock ignored what his friend said and smiled while using again his microscope as he remembered of an evening when in a dark room lightened by a small chandelier he had took Magnussen's eyeglasses off while both were laying down a bed: "Promise you won't tell anyone about this? As you see this is my first with a man...", had said calmly Magnussen.  
"As long as you won't publish that audio, Magnussen."  
"I promise.", he said finally holding his breath when Sherlock had laid his hand on his trousers.


End file.
